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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715250">cover me with stuff</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishyspots/pseuds/fishyspots'>fishyspots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Relationship Bloopers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:49:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishyspots/pseuds/fishyspots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s a snake in the hydrangeas."</p>
<p>David wrinkles his nose. “This is one of your worst euphemisms.”</p>
<p>Or, David and Patrick talk about vulnerability.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>210</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cover me with stuff</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrodobreva/gifts">petrodobreva</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO <a href="/users/petrodobreva/">petrodobreva</a>!!!!! I didn't hit all of your likes, but I hit relationship bloopers HARD, so I hope it evens out. </p>
<p>And endless thanks to <a href="/users/rockinhamburger/">rockinhamburger</a> for the plot, dialogue, and validation. All of it, is the point. Thanks a million, friend!</p>
<p>Title is from "I Love You Like A Table" from Waitress.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What just happened?”</p>
<p>Patrick’s breath is coming fast, eyes darting between the back door and where David’s standing in the kitchen. “Um,” he clears his throat. “Nothing. Not a thing. No things.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” David nods. “No things. Would you like to try for something more believable?” After an afternoon of organizing folding chairs in the yard behind the store for a watercolor class the next day, he doesn’t really have the patience for their usual thing, where Patrick talks around his problem until David can suss it out for himself. He might have saved the patience if Roland hadn’t insisted on helping him. David knows that Jocelyn didn’t <em>have</em> to loan him the chairs, but the presence of her husband still felt like too high a price. </p>
<p>Patrick goes to lean against the back door but overshoots and has to use his arm to brace himself. “There’s a snake in the hydrangeas.”</p>
<p>David wrinkles his nose. “This is one of your worst euphemisms.”</p>
<p>“Ew,” Patrick says with feeling. “That’s—I hate snakes.”</p>
<p>“Was it a big snake?” David turns to peek out the kitchen window; he can see a bucket half-filled with weeds and soil spread out where Patrick had abandoned the gardening to find cover. “Should we call someone? Ray was talking about animal control at Twyla’s last party, but I can honestly say that I lost the thread and don’t know if it’s a new business of his or not.”</p>
<p>Patrick shakes his head, cheeks still flushed from his run. David narrows his eyes and looks a little closer. “Garter snake.”</p>
<p>“And you are...allergic to garter snakes?”</p>
<p>“I hate snakes.” Patrick looks at David then, and the look in his eyes makes clear that it’s not exertion but embarrassment turning his cheeks red. </p>
<p>“Aw.” David frowns exaggeratedly. He can sympathize; there was a millipede in the store last week. “Gross. Well, hopefully the snake goes away soon.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to—” Patrick’s voice goes sharp like it does when they fight. David’s pretty sure this shouldn’t be a fight, so it’s...off. Something’s off. But Patrick inhales and lets it out slowly. “I hate that I’m scared of those stupid things.”</p>
<p>“Um, have we met?” David turns toward the cabinets but keeps Patrick in his sight. “I’m scared of many things.”</p>
<p>“But yours make sense.” Patrick runs a hand over his eyes. “Like the parasailing thing. Who wouldn’t hate heights after that?”</p>
<p>David takes Patrick in without being too obvious. He’s doing that thing with his lower lip that’s adorable and infuriating in equal measure. It’s probably technically a pout, but neither of them want to admit that. David can only make fun of it when he’s being condescending, but Patrick normally doesn’t bring this particular expression out unless it’s something serious that David can’t be petty about. Infuriating, really, because he has so few things he can poke at Patrick about. “You know that a fear doesn’t have to be logical, right? Like, sometimes it is. But I was terrified of my mom’s eyelet lace clutch for a year after she told me it was poisonous. That’s not logical.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s lip stops doing the horrifying thing, which is progress. And the light of teasing is back in his eyes, so David counts it as a win. “Why did she say it was poisonous?”</p>
<p>“She knew I was plotting to steal it.” David waves a hand. “Not important. As long as you can still take care of any and all moths, we don’t have a problem here.”</p>
<p>“Where did the moth thing come from?”</p>
<p>David can play this game. “Where did the snake thing come from?”</p>
<p>Patrick makes a face that’s less horrifying and more funny. David loves his husband and always wants to see him happy, of course, but. It’s fun to see him squirm. “I give.”</p>
<p>But something still isn't quite right. About Patrick’s face. David shakes his head. No, he loves Patrick’s face and all the things it does. Especially—ahem. He’s getting off track. “What else is going on?” He reaches behind Patrick into the wine fridge and grabs a bottle Patrick likes. Or at least David’s pretty sure he likes it—he grabbed three bottles last time they went to the first vineyard that didn't sell banana wine within five hours. It’s not a huge leap he’s making.</p>
<p>“Nothing else is going on.” Patrick looks up at the ceiling, which is one of his more obvious tells. </p>
<p>A memory from their belated honeymoon to Toronto wakes up and kicks around David’s head. Patrick had gotten all worked up about getting a migraine, moaning into the dark hotel room that this wasn’t what David had signed up for, as though he wouldn’t want to be there for any part of Patrick. “Hey,” he says lightly as he reaches for the corkscrew in the drawer. He keeps Patrick trapped between the counter and his arms—he doesn’t want Patrick to slip away from this conversation, slithering away like—ew. Screw this day for making him think so much about snakes. “What else?”</p>
<p>“It’s—I just don’t want you to have to. To be with me when I’m—this isn’t—” </p>
<p>“My kingdom for a conclusion,” David says mostly to himself. But they’re pressed in close, so Patrick fixes him with a look. He winces and sets about being soothing. “You’re not making me do anything.”</p>
<p>Patrick rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. David thinks he can probably make fun of <em>this</em> move, but. He’ll wait to test the theory. “You didn’t sign up for—”</p>
<p>“I signed up for you,” David says. He tucks the <em>you idiot</em> back behind his teeth. He senses it will not aid his mission. “Warts and all. Or, um, some other non-amphibious reference.”</p>
<p>“Snakes and frogs are totally different.”</p>
<p>“And we’ll get right back to that deflection after we finish this,” David says sternly. “You didn’t know that I would break my arm in two places the week before our first anniversary, but you still saved me from Stevie’s attempts to deface my cast with doodles. And you didn’t know that my parents would basically move in with us for nearly a month after <em>Sunrise Bay</em> wrapped again.”</p>
<p>“That’s different.” Patrick’s being stubborn, which, water is wet, so it’s not exactly news. </p>
<p>“Because it’s me?” Patrick never minds soothing David’s worries, or talking him down from spirals, or letting him pluck at his shoulders while he works through distressing thoughts.</p>
<p>“No, David.” Patrick uncrosses his arms and pulls at David’s hips until David sways forward. “Because it’s—hard. It’s hard for me.”</p>
<p>“It’s hard for me too, you know.” David shakes his head. That’s not exactly right. “It is in the beginning. To trust that you’ve—got it. That you can handle the hard stuff, or the embarrassing stuff.” He resolutely does not think about wet sheets and aborted livestreams. </p>
<p>“But I can,” Patrick reminds him. Then he breathes out into the space that he’s made for himself against David’s neck. “And you can.”</p>
<p>David wiggles, but gently. He doesn’t want to dislodge Patrick. “I can.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s arms tighten around him, then loosen just enough for David to grab both bottle and corkscrew again. They’ve both earned a drink.</p>
<p>“You’re really good at this,” Patrick says, looking far too impressed. David’s done the corkscrew before. “I feel very supported.”</p>
<p>“I wish I could say I got that all the time.” David plays it up because he knows it will make Patrick smile. He straightens his back and pulls away from the cage of Patrick’s arms so he can watch the way his husband’s mouth turns down in fondness before the happiness takes hold.</p>
<p>Patrick clears his throat, then turns and reaches for the glasses. “A shame,” he agrees. “Especially since you’re <em>so</em> supportive that you won’t make me go back out there. Really kind that you’re going to weed the flower beds for me.”</p>
<p>“I support you,” David says. He thinks fast; doing one outdoor chore might open a door that he can’t close. And he’d rather die than mow a lawn, even if it’s his own. “And because I support you, I also support you facing your fears.”</p>
<p>“I’ll remember that when the next moth needs rehoming.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” David sets his wine glass down and crosses into the kitchen; he’ll get the weeds in the morning. Stevie’s coming over to crash between trips, so if he plays his cards right he’ll make it through the chore without getting any dirt on the knees of his jeans. “But we’re having spaghetti for dinner because now I’m thinking about noodles.”</p>
<p>Patrick chokes on his wine. “Why would you ruin pasta for me while I’m in this fragile state?”</p>
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